


South Side of the Sky

by marginaliana



Category: Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s22e06 Top Gear, I sincerely apologize to the band Yes, M/M, Music, the one with the mountain in Canada
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 20:24:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5554064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marginaliana/pseuds/marginaliana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeremy and James apologize to Richard for leaving him stuck up a mountain for literally ages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	South Side of the Sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rosied](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosied/gifts).



The two of them were up to something, Richard could tell that much. From his position stretched out lazily on James' sofa – complete with car magazine and a mug of his favorite tea – he could just see their heads bent together, almost touching, as they huddled on the piano bench down the hall in the study, though James was playing softly enough that Richard couldn't hear the tune. The piano bench wasn't quite big enough for them both, and Jeremy's left arse cheek was hanging precariously off the edge, so that he had to keep shifting to keep from falling over.

Every once in a while one or the other of them would dart a look in Richard's direction, as if to make sure he wasn't paying attention; Richard took care to seem intensely interested in his magazine in those moments, playing off any movements as merely a stretch.

The day had started with a lie in – they were all three of them just back from Canada, and Jeremy and James had kept him up late the night before, apologizing for leaving him stuck on top of a mountain for literally ages. Richard was still a little bit sore from the apologies – in a pleasant way – and he had been happy enough to be served breakfast and installed comfortably on the sofa.

Of course, he'd had to listen to James' choice of music – that was the rule, that whoever hosted got to pick the music, and if anyone didn't like it then he could either piss off or offer to host himself, or both. In practice, this meant that Richard ended up listening to a lot of prog rock and classical music, because James' flat was by far the most comfortable and he was the most willing (and able) to cook, so they ended up here more often than not. 

This morning it had been prog rock, something filled with noodling guitars and high-pitched keyboards and even a flute in places. Richard was willing to admit – in the privacy of his own head – that some of it wasn't bad at all. It was just that it was so godawfully _endless_ that was the problem. Apparently literally none of the bands from the 70s had ever considered recording a song under three minutes long.

Still, it hadn't been annoying enough to disturb his laziness, especially given that his mug of tea had kept being magically refilled by someone or other whenever it ran low. Up until about an hour and a half ago, that was, because at that point Jeremy had visibly had some sort of Idea, and had taken himself off into the study to tap furiously at his phone. Twenty minutes after that, he'd snuck up to the doorway, waggled his fingers until he'd caught James' attention, and then hooked his head back in the direction of the study. James had made an amused face, but he'd put down his book and gone.

Richard sometimes wondered if Jeremy genuinely thought he was being subtle, or if he knew that he was hopeless at it and just went through the motions as a sort of pantomime. They'd known each other a long time now, but Richard still couldn't always tell the difference between persona and reality. He suspected that the line was thinner than most people would imagine.

The last remains of his tea had gone well cold by the time the two of them reappeared, looking torn between anxiety and smugness. Richard was nearly at the end of the last article, so he contemplated making them wait a little bit, but in the end curiosity won out over bloody-mindedness and he set the magazine down on the coffee table.

"Yeeeeees?" he asked, drawing it out. Of course, curiosity didn't mean he had to make it easy on them. 

"We've got a little something for you," Jeremy said.

Richard yawned ostentatiously. "Is it dinner?" he said, and then laughed when Jeremy stuck out his bottom lip. "All right, all right, put that thing away, Jez, for god's sake. I'm coming." 

He levered himself up and followed the two of them into the study. James slid back onto the piano bench and spread a bit of music out in front of him. Richard glanced at it, then did a double take as he realized that it was hand-written. 

_Crikey,_ he thought. _Has James actually bloody written me a song?_ He knew that James sometimes did a bit of composing, but he'd never actually heard any of it. Once or twice he'd expressed an interest, but James had demurred and Richard hadn't pressed him – frankly, he wasn't sure whether whatever kind of thing James came up would really be to his taste. Still, if James really had written him something, he would have to be suitably appreciative.

He flicked a glance at Jeremy, wondering where he came in to the whole thing. Jeremy definitely couldn't write music – at least, not music that had didn't sound like an electric guitar in terrible pain – but Richard only had a moment to mentally scratch his head before James struck up a chord. Jeremy picked up another piece of paper from on top of the piano, and as Richard blinked in surprise, Jeremy opened his mouth and sang.

> In Canada a mountain that stood so proud and high,   
> the brave explorer Hammond could reach and touch the sky.  
> He climbed through the snow  
> with the world spread below.  
> To await the turning of the days a million miles away  
> from everything he had ever known.

Richard's mouth had dropped open, and he was glad that James and Jeremy were both studiously not looking him. Once he recovered from the shock, though, his gobsmacked expression slowly began to replace itself with a smile. The music was a bit slower than his usual sort of thing, and Jeremy's voice was cigarette-roughened, and the whole thing had a distinct tinge of prog rock noodling. But... they'd written a song about him! A dramatic song, an _epic_ song.

> He raised a shelter amid the trees and stones.  
> He felt the cold seeping deep into his bones.  
> He was bold, he was strong.  
> It could all go horribly wrong.

Richard laughed out loud, then clapped a hand to his mouth. Jeremy darted a look at him out of the corner of his eye, his cheeks gone red. When he caught Richard's eye he jerked his gaze back to his piece of paper, but the corners of his mouth were turning up, just slightly.

> What would come he knew he could not say, a million miles away  
> from everything he had ever known.
> 
> Hammond's mates had begun their journey west  
> but for aid they were really not the best.  
> They were old, they were slow,  
> and they were lazy, as you know.  
> He thought of killing them a hundred ways, as he waited days  
> for the two cocks to finally appear. 

Richard was grinning openly now at the absolute daftness of it. And yet it was beautiful, too; the piano sounded a bit like snowfall, somehow, little floating droplets of notes down over the sweeping backdrop of music.

> The blizzard came and it filled the sky with white.  
> Brave Hammond wondered if he would make it through the night.  
> He ate some cold beans,  
> made some dolls and made a scene.  
> But at last he made it safely home, not without a moan,   
> vowing he would never leave it again.

They came to a shambling but vaguely triumphant conclusion. Richard found himself applauding without actually deciding to do so, but he was glad he hadn't played it cool when he saw the look of shy pleasure on James' face.

"What d'you think, then?" James said.

"Oh," Richard said. "It was all right, I suppose." He smacked James on the shoulder. "You idiot, it was brilliant. How the hell did you two write that in just an hour?"

"Some of it's sort of... cobbled together from other things," James admitted. "But some of it is original. Jez did the lyrics." 

Jeremy was grinning, but he mouthed, 'Also a bit cribbed' when Richard looked at him.

An idea sprung into Richard's head. ″So does this mean I'm your muse?″ he asked, cocking his hip to one side and giving them both a sultry-eyed look. ″I mean, you wrote a song about me...″

″Hmm,″ Jeremy said, putting one hand to his chin in an exaggeratedly-pensive expression. ″I dunno. I'm not sure if you're really pretty enough to be a muse. What do you think, May?″

″Maybe if we got him some more eye makeup,″ James said. Richard smacked him on the shoulder again, but he was grinning, and after that it all devolved into 'making it up to Richard for leaving him up a mountain' round 2.

**Author's Note:**

> Liberally ( _very_ liberally) based on [South Side of the Sky by Yes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MiQbX3WnC6k).


End file.
